One Last Breath

I have been thinking about death a lot in the past few weeks. How does it feel to have death’s door opening for you? What happens after death? Why do we, as the loved ones of death’s tenants, grieve the way that we do? There is so much that is unknown about death to the average layman. I have been thinking about my death too. I don’t want that day to approach anytime soon, but when it is my time to pass, what are my wishes? It may never be the “perfect” time to have these conversations, but I do think that now is as good of a time as any.

As I wrote previously, my step-grandmother passed away on December Thirty-First. Just last week we said our goodbyes at the viewing and funeral. But death doesn’t give anyone reprieve. Today, January Thirteenth, my great-grandmother took her final breath and drifted into the unknown.

I feel sad, but I feel okay. Death was a drawn-out process for her – like I said with my step-grandma, Dementia is a brutal disease that strips away a person’s identity. I have so many great memories with my grandma. She is the grandparent that I spent the most time with as a child. My great-grandparents have lived on the same property as my dad for over twenty years. Every Sunday was a family dinner at their house. Every holiday was spent together. Half of my summers were spent with my great-grandma for years. The world has lost a great teacher/wife/grandmother/friend/mother… and she has finally found peace.

Everyone’s death is treated differently depending on religion, culture, the departed one’s wishes, family beliefs… In English class last semester, we read quite a bit about not only the process of preparing a body after death, but also about how differently death can be celebrated.

That got me thinking…why, in my experience, do we wear all black? Why is it such a solemn occasion? This is where my ideas stemmed from about how I want my death (and life) to be celebrated. Death and grieving is already such a sad and painful experience without the services. I want my funeral to be a celebration of my life here on Earth. I want my loved ones to know that, regardless of how long my journey has been (will be), it has been magnificent. I don’t want everyone dressed in black – I want them to wear what makes them feel beautiful regardless of color or pattern. I want them to share the stories that remind them of the kind of person I was (am). I want them to laugh and I want them to be together. There will be no somber music or preaching. I want this to be a time that they can reminisce on the happy moments that we shared instead of mourning my death. I want them to know that I appreciate and love them all dearly and that I am okay.

Life is such a beautiful thing and deserves to be celebrated.

I love you and miss you, grandma. I am glad you found peace.

Love Always,

Elizabeth

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